To Paris, with Love
by MaKiNgMeBlUsH
Summary: They say that when you dance, it enables you to find yourself and lose yourself at the same time. Imagine this. You just got excepted into the school of your dreams, but there's always someone who has the lose end of the string and pulls you back. Now, you're in the middle. Torn from two things that you love very much. This is why I dance, so I can lose myself. Modern AU! Makorra!
1. New Friend

**From Paris, with Love**

**KOV**

_When I was little, my mother always told me the stories of the princesses. How different all the girls were, with someone evil always wanting to get them. But my most favorite story was, The Hunchback of Notre Dame. I know that he wasn't really a princess, but he was a hero to me. Despite his looks, he saved Esmeralda and the town. He decided that his friend should have the girl and was happy with his decision. It's that kind of selflessness that makes me wonder if people like that really exist in a world of hate and despair. _

_I sometimes wonder if the red string really does exist. _

I've read or seen even books and movies to last me the after life and if possible, resurrection. Typically, in the whole cliché teenage high school romance, you have the protagonist who is either a popular jerk or the nerdy shy kid. The protagonist falls in love with the most unexpected person in the whole movie, well if you've seen a lot of those kinds of movies, you totally call it. Then, the couple either start a secret relationship or tell everyone that they're together and just randomly forget about the entire world.

I honestly don't know how Taylor Swift deals with this all the time. Usually when you turn 18, people tell you that you're practically an adult and that it's you against the world. Ten years ago, I would've totally agreed, but now it totally sucks.

I didn't come to Paris for some cheesy romance or for a new start, I came here for _me._ I didn't travel 5,000 to experience love in the "City of Love." I came here to train in the most elite performing arts school in the world. I'm not letting some handsome prince charming try to win me over by singing songs or playing jealousy games.

They say that love is like a game of chess, one wrong move and you're mated.

**Present Day, Paris, France.**

_Dear Diary,_

_I'm here at last! After all of the moving and flying,_ _I'm here in Paris! Who would believe that an average girl from Quebec would get excepted into one of the most famous schools in the world? _

_Years and years of training in ballet, hours of aching feet, and sore muscles finally pays off. I wonder what Katara, my instructor, would say if she saw me right now. What would mom and dad say? Probably, "I can't believe I'm spending $80,00 a year for sending Korra to a school of dancing. You can't even make decent money off of that." Dad would probably say that and I would tell him over and over again that I'm here on a full time scholarship._

_I makes me sad to think of how mom and dad don't really support me and my dreams of becoming a dancer. They always wanted to shape me into little versions of themselves._

_Well, like what we like to say in Canada, fuck a moose._

_I'm at campus right now, and a bunch of people are staring at me. So, I better find my dorm, before a mime finds me!_

_Korra._

I shut my diary and put it back into my purse. I feel so socially awkward just standing here like an idiot. I don't even speak fluently in French, well thanks to ballet I speak a little. I readjust my bag on my shoulder and grip the handle of my suitcase and keep walking.

Chin up and straight posture. At last I find my dorm and pray to the heavens that I'm not stuck with some weirdo who collects stamps or maybe plays with herself. How awkward would that be? I knock on the door, no one answers. I sigh and unlock the door with the key I got from the front desk.

I look inside of the room, I notice that there are at least six suitcases on the right side of the room. I raise an eyebrow and leave my stuff outside the room. I instantly see that someone already decorated our room and I'm pretty surprised that this person knows my color scheme and surprised at how impressive the rooms are compared to my expectations.

I look at the right side of the room and see that the names on the suitcases say Asami. What the hell? This Asami person had us get this huge room, which I'm pretty sure is the biggest in the entire campus, had my side painted, decorated, and this is like expert level of creepy.

I look at Asami's side of the room. The walls are painted a pretty purple color. There's a mini sequin chandelier hanging, white nightstands and vanity sitting by the bed, paintings of pink cherry blossoms are hanging over the headboard, and light purple curtains cover the window. **(Link in profile!)**

I instantly know that her side of the room cost about half of my college tuition. I look away from her side onto mine and gasp. The walls are painted blue, with what looks like fine China hanging on the wall, a queen bed with white and blue **(Link in profile!)**

"You like?" asks a feminine voice behind me. "Ahh!" I scream and turn around. I look at the girl, who is very pretty and is smiling at me warmly as though we know each other already. I look at the girl, she has long dark curls hanging down her torso, ivory skin, and popping green eyes.

She laughs at me and sticks out her hand. I hesitantly shake it in slowly pull it back to my side. "Sorry about the little scare, I'm Asami Sato," the girl, Asami says apologetically. I smile a little and nod, a bit more comfortably. "It's fine, but wait," I stare at her in shock. "You're Asami Sato, daughter of Hiroshi Sato the-" I'm cut off by Asami.

"One of the most famous inventors of the world?" she asks sarcastically. I nod, still in shock. "What's a girl like you doing in this school?" I ask. Asami shrugs and sits down in one of the seats. She looks at her nails and smiles. "I came to this school because of the fashion classes here."

I raise an eyebrow. "Wait, then why aren't you in New York. Isn't that the fashion industry there?" Again she shrugs and stands up. "I wanted to study it here. So, enough about me, what about you, Korra Armstrong?" This is probably one of the most weirdest things that has happened to me. "How do you know my name?" Asami walks out the door and comes back inside with my suitcase and bags. "I did my research on you, before I came here. So why'd you come here."

"Well, I came here because I'm on a scholarship." I instantly feel embarrassed telling one of the most richest girl in the world why I'm here. I mean all she has to do is snap her pretty little fingers and has everything given to her on a silver platter. Asami perks up. "Really, what for?" I shrug. "Ballet."

"Oh, wow. You must be really good then. This school hardly gives any scholarships to people." I laugh. "Well, I wouldn't say that. I'm just an average person."

Asami laughs with me. "So, Miss Korra, any guys you've spotted lately?" I glare at her. "Seriously, it's not even been one hour and you're asking me about my love life? And I doubt that there are any cute guys in this school. In case you haven't notice, there isn't any sports here." Asami smirks at me and then grabs my forearm.

"Oh, contraire, Korra. There are actually some really hot guys in the singing department." I sigh as Asami drags me out of our room. "Asami, I really didn't come to this school for some romance with a random guy, who's just going to be a distraction from why I'm really here." Asami rolls her eyes as we walk down the hall.

"Well then, Korra. You have really bad judgment in colleges then."

**So, you guys like? I'm going to make this humorous and serious at the same time. Don't worry, the Makorra love story won't be that cliché in this story. I realized that my own writing style was kinda boring and the plots for my other stories went absolutely nowhere.**

**So, I plan to make many more chapters after this. **

**Please review, it's good for your soul.**


	2. Cup Song

**To Paris, with Love**

Shit! Shit, shit, shit, shit, shit. That's it, I'm screwed for life. It was 7:47, which meant I only had 13 minutes left, before I'll be late for orientation. Five minutes for a shower would be 7:52, two minutes to change clothes would be 7:54, 1 minute to grab a cereal bar would be 7:55, which meant exactly 4 minutes and 39...38...37.…36 seconds to run to the front desk for my schedule.

I practically took the quickest shower of all time. I picked out a lace dress, studded loafers, and quickly braided my semi-dry hair.** (Link in profile!)** I ran to grab my purse from the nightstand and grabbed a cereal bar from the pantry. I jogged up to the door and ran, more like flew, down the hallway out of our dorm.

I finally met up with Asami at the lobby, where everyone. And I mean everyone, as in every person who got accepted into this school was. I tapped Asami on the shoulder and she turned around to face me. She smiled sweetly at me, before laughing at the evil eye I was giving her. Asami looked like she dressed to impress.

She had on a sheer peter pan top, a read cami, silver high waisted skirt, a brown belt, and red heels on. **(Link in profile!)**

"Why the hell didn't you wake me up on time?" I seethed. Asami awkwardly smiled at me and took interest at her heels. "Well….I," she started. I impatiently tapped my foot on the floor and crossed my arms. "Well, you looked so peaceful sleeping and I didn't want to bother you. I'm sorry, please forgive me"

I had to admit, I thought Asami was pretty nice for considering that, but I'm still pretty pissed off. I sighed and patted her on the back. "Well, I appreciate the thought, but next time at least tell me what time it is. I literally had to take a 4 and a half minute shower."

Asami gasped, "Did you even condition or wash your face?" I shook my head. She gasped in disbelief again. "What? Try running, while trying to slip on your shoes, and simultaneously eat a cereal bar trying to come here to grab your schedule."

"Okay, enough," Asami said. "Bad auras are bad for the skin." I rolled my eyes and looked at my schedule. I can totally guarantee that there will be some mistake on it.

**Mme Regal's School of Performing Arts**

**Korra R. Armstrong 6/23/1995 Dorm 1108**

**Period 1: Advance Rep. Ballet Studio A**

**Period 2: Advance Jazz Studio H**

**Period 3: Teen Hip Hop Studio C**

**Period 4: AP American Literature Room 309**

**Period 5: Lunch **

**Period 6: Calculus Room 154**

**Period 7: Sr. Cont./Lyrical Studio C**

**Period 8: Elective class**

**Elective Classes Choose One:**

**Room 101 Mr. Barley: Architecture }A**

**Room 318 Mrs. Moorhouse: Acting }B**

**Room 539 Ms Anderson: Singing }C**

**Room 497 Mr. Reynolds: Designing }D**

See what'd I tell you? I don't do hip hob. Now that I've think of it, I've never done hip hop. I thought that hip hop was just having fun through popping, locking, twerking, and grinding. "Hey Asami, do we have any classes together?" I asked her.

I gave her my schedule and she studied it.. She handed it back to me and smiled. "1, 3, 5, 7, and 8." I raised a brow. "I thought that 8 was an elective?" Asami nodded. "Yeah, I choose singing for you, while you weren't looking.

I looked at my schedule and saw that she circled A for me in a red pen. I glared at her. "I don't even sing, Asami." Asami shrugged and swiped my schedule from my hands. "There's a first time for everything, Korra." And with that, she walked up to the front desk lady to confirm my elective class.

First day here, and it already feels like hell.

* * *

I luckily made it through the first seven periods, without any problems at all. Which is really weird, considering that the universe fucking hates me. I looked down at my schedule and sighed. Eighth period, singing. Now I've never sung at all, so it's probably not my forte.

I made it to room 539. I looked inside the room and was instantly dumbfounded. There was a huge grand piano in the middle, about thirty chairs, guitars, flutes, microphones, and other instruments were put off to the side.

I spotted Asami talking to some guy and decided that I should walk over. I know, it's pretty pathetic that I'm clinging to her, but she's practically the only person who would have a one minute conversation with me. I took a deep breath and put on a fake smile.

Asami and the guy spotted me walking over and they both smiled. Asami wrapped an arm around my shoulders and turned so I could face the guy she was talking to. "I knew you would come, Korra. Korra this is Bolin, Bolin this is Korra, my roommate."

Bolin was pretty cute. He had a more emraldlish eye color than Asami's jade colored eyes. He had a muscular, stocky build, contrasting to his short height. "Hi, I'm Bolin. Your way prettier than how Asami describes you," he said in a preppy tone.

I blushed. "Nice to meet you, Bolin." I shook his hand and awkwardly stood. Asami noticed the awkward tension and talked. "So Bolin, is Mako here? I know that he took this class last year, but is he focusing on his acting?"

"Wait," I said kinda rudely, but fuck it. "Who's Mako?" I asked in a nicer tone. "Mako's my older brother," Bolin said. "Kinda a douche at first, but he'll grow on you. He's coming 'Sami. Probably on another date."

Whoa, whoa, whoa. Another date? BRAIN BLAST! **(Sorry, I've been dying to use Jimmy Neutron quotes.) **Time for another investigation by Korra Armstrong. 'Kinda a douche a first, but he'll warm up to you', hmm. Another date. Wait, it makes sense.

"Your brother's a player?" I asked Bolin. Bolin and Asami nodded. I noticed Bolin's jaw clench when I said the word "player". "Like the bad boy, I'm just gonna fuck every girl I see, 'cause I'm too cool for school kinda player or the I'm gonna pretend that I love you, but I'm really just a desperate asshole kinda player?" I asked. What, I guess I read too many romance books.

Bolin and Asami looked at each other and both laughed. "A little bit of both," Bolin said in between laughs. "Speaking of the devil," Asami muttered just as someone, who I guess is Mako, walked in. Damn these hormones! I'm not gonna lie, Mako was very good looking.

He had spiky black hair, ivory skin, a chiseled muscular physique, like Bolin, but taller, and unusual golden/honey eyes.

"Damn," I said a little loudly. Everyone turned in their seats to look at me. I blushed and shrunk down in my seat. Asami tapped my shoulder and whispered in my ear. "Don't judge him by his looks, their's more to him than just that. You might fall for his spell."

I scoffed. Yeah, like I was gonna fall for some arrogant playboy trashbag.

I looked at Bolin and saw him talking to his brother. I turned away, before either of them noticed that I was staring at them. Miss Anderson walked in and wrote her name on the board in Expo marker. She was about in her mid twenties, despite the seriousness in her tone of voice.

"Good afternoon, class. I'm Miss Anderson, and I'll be your teacher for this class. Now since this is just orientation and class doesn't really begin 'till tomorrow, I want all of you to stand up here and show us your talent."

Hell, no. I think the last time I've sung, let alone perform anything besides dance, was in kindergarten when I sung my solo in Mary Had a Little Lamb and puked all over the second row.

"I'm going in alphabetical order, so first is Korra Armstrong." Of course. I stood up and walked down by where she was standing beside the piano. "So, Miss Armstrong, can you sing for all of us?" I gulped. "Ugh," I said, my voice sounded husky and manlike. "I can't really sing. Or even sung."

Miss Armstrong raised and eyebrow at me and put her hands on her hips, making me feel even smaller. The whole class is probably laughing their asses off. "Korra, what are you?" Miss Armstrong asked. "I beg your pardon?"

"Are you an actor, dancer, athlete, designer?" she asked, annoyance in her voice. "I'm a dancer," I said a little more comfortably. She smiled, "Since you're a dancer, can you give me 75 foutte turns?" I looked down at my palms, which were sweating.

I rubbed them on my dress and shook my head. "I can't, the record for that is 53." Miss Anderson laughed at me. Clearly, she hates me. "And who hold that record, Korra?" I looked at me feet. "Sophia Lucia holds it." **(Real person) **"Hmm, and how old is Sophia Lucia?"

"9."

"You hear that class?" Miss Anderson asked turning to face all the other students. "She's only nine years old, but hold that record! Now tell me Korra, do you work hard in dance?" I nodded. "I give it my all in every practice, ma'am."

"Then, with that same potential, I'm pretty sure you can sing." I sighed. I looked around the room, until I spotted a cup on her desk. "May I?" I asked, gesturing to the cup. She nodded and raised a brow at me.

I ran to the desk to get the cup. I could feel the rest of the student's eyes burning holes through my body. I took a deep breath and sat in the middle of the floor. I put the cup in the middle and began to play a beat.

I looked up and my eyes locked with Mako's. instinctively, I looked away.

Here goes nothing.

_I got my ticket for the long way run_

_Two bottles of whiskey for the way_

_And I sure would like some sweet company_

_And I'm leaving tomorrow, what'd ya say_

_When I'm gone_

_When I'm gone_

_You're gonna miss me when I'm gone_

_You're gonna miss me by my hair_

_You're gonna miss me everywhere_

_When I'm gone_

I did one more beat and then stood up. The class applauded for me. Miss Anderson patted me on the back and I sat back in my seat. Asami looked at me with wide eyes. "Korra, that was amazing! You have such an amazing voice!" she exclaimed.

"Yeah, and that whole cup thing was genius. The only one who's really good at acapella is Mako, but you're giving him a run for his money," Bolin said. I smiled and said thanks.

Maybe singing isn't all that bad.

* * *

**Hi guys! So, I'm not a dancer at all, but my sister is and she gave me some helpful info for this story. The whole cup thing is from Lulu and the Lampshades and there's a cover done by Anna Kendrick on Pitch Perfect! Link for the video is in my profile!**

**Like this story? Tell me what ya think in the comments!**


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